Chapter 13 Hellsing
HELLSING
Idropped my head between my shoulders, water sliding down the curve of my back. My muscles were tight and tense from the day’s events. I leaned forward, palms flat against the tile, watching the fog rise and swirl around me. For a moment, I thought maybe the heat could burn her out of my head.
It didn’t.
Her scent lingered in my lungs, sweet and sharp, just like her tongue.
The memory of her voice, the fight we’d had, the way she stood her ground, the flash of her eyes when she challenged me.
.. it all pressed into me. Every beat carried her name and although I tried to focus on the noise of the shower, the smell of the soap, anything but her, it wasn’t working. The more I fought it, the worse it got.
I could almost feel her skin under my hands, the heat of her body when she’d leaned too close, the sound of her breath catching when she thought I wasn’t paying attention. The thought alone had me tense, aching in ways I didn’t want to admit.
I exhaled hard, dragging a hand over my face. The hot water wasn’t helping. Nothing was. It just reminded me that I was alive, and she was the reason for it.
I could still feel the curve of her hips under my hands, the tension in her body when she argued with me, wanting to pounce on me. She made it impossible to think straight. Made it too damn easy to want things I shouldn’t.
I clenched my jaw, squeezed my eyes shut, and let the water hit me.
But it didn’t drown her out. Not the image of her in my shirt, the hem exposing her soft plush thighs, the way it clung to the roundness of her ass.
I imagined her without any panties, giving me teasing glimpses of the peach between her legs.
I pictured the flush of her cheeks when I caught her looking, lips parted like she wanted to say something filthy but didn’t trust herself enough to speak it out loud.
I was so damn hard. Painfully.
And no amount of water was going to wash away the way my cock pulsed with the memory of her pressed to me, her voice soft when she wasn’t cussing me out. When she breathed like I was the only thing tethering her to this world.
My hand moved before I could stop it, slick and firm as it wrapped around the thick length of me.
I let out a low breath, forehead resting against the tile.
I always stopped myself from allowing it to get this far.
I never crossed the line. But these past couple of days had been too much.
She was slowly getting under my skin, and I was letting her.
I didn’t just want her under my skin; I wanted her under me and my cock buried deep inside her.
I stroked slowly, twisting my fist and squeezing the tip, controlling my pace.
Grace had always been my weakness. She'd always been the one thing to make me lose control.
And the second I let myself imagine her kneeling before me, red lips parted, mouth hot and eager for my cock, I lost my rhythm.
My grip tightened and my hips jerked forward.
I imagined her rising over me, that t-shirt sliding off her frame, those big soft tits swaying as she ground down on me, whispering my name with the same urgency she'd used to bring me back.
"Fuck..." I hissed, jaw clenched, a growl came from deep inside my chest.
I pictured driving myself into her in long, hard strokes. Her body writhing, her moans filling my head, curses becoming filthy pleas as I fucked her.
I came hard, thick pulses streamed against the wall, my breath came out ragged and uneven. I stood there after, still braced against the tile, my throat tight and chest heaving.
I hated this.
Not the wanting or the need. It was too real, too raw. What I hated was how the demon twisted it. Bael's voice still echoed in my head, even when I was chasing pleasure. Even when I was alone.
Twisting everything sacred into something filthy.
I shut the water off and grabbed the towel, drying off in silence, knowing she was on the other side of that connecting door, just waiting to be taken.
I pulled on my gray sweats, and bare chested, still damp and horny, I dropped onto the couch.
The place smelled faintly of her perfume, something sweet and earthy that clung to the air no matter how much I tried to ignore it.
I sat there, elbows on my knees, eyes closed.
My fists clenched. I couldn’t touch her.
Not yet. Not with Bael in the shadows. Not when I didn’t know if wanting her was all me or I'd be sharing it with something worse.
I wanted her. Not just the warmth of her, not just the fight. I wanted the way she made me feel like I was still human, even when the dark tried to tear me apart.
And that thought scared me. I never let anyone this close before, I wasn't able to without it being used against me. I promised Virgil I'd watch over his daughter, not defile her. He trusted me.
So why the fuck couldn't I get the feel of her curves out of my hands.
When I finally lay back, the sound of the storm outside carried through the walls.
Thunder rolled deep. I stared up at the ceiling, letting the rhythm of the rain beat out everything else.
The ache, the guilt, the want. I closed my eyes, trying to fight the pull.
But sleep came like it always did, quick and filled with dark shadows.
Soft steps padded across the hardwood floor, barely making a sound. I couldn’t see her face, only her small feet, toes painted red, the hem of my shirt brushing her upper thighs, bare legs catching moonlight as she stepped into the room. She didn’t speak. Just watched me.
The breath caught in my throat as Grace climbed onto the edge of the futon. Her hair was wild, messy from sleep, but her eyes held a hunger I’d never seen so bare. She leaned down and brushed my lips with hers. It was a slow, careful tasting.
Her fingers brushed over my chest, trailing lower. “I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My hands found her hips as she straddled me, warm and ready.
The cotton of my shirt slid up her thighs as she rocked forward.
No panties. She was slick and heated, gliding over the length of me without pause.
I hissed between my teeth as her folds parted around my cock, teasing but not taking me in.
“Tell me to stop,” she murmured.
I gripped her harder. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
She moaned, and I felt her body open, taking me inside slowly, inch by inch, until I was fully buried in her. Her head dropped back, mouth parted in bliss, and I surged up to claim her lips. She rode me in a steady rhythm, the heat between us drowned every thought I’d ever had of self-control.
I grabbed her ass, squeezing and parting her cheeks as I thrust up into her, and she cried out, her body tightening, hips grinding. The friction was unbearable and perfect.
My name on her lips broke me.
And just as quickly as it all began, the air shifted.
Suddenly she was yanked back from me, her scream cut off, the entire room engulfed in smoke and flame. I reached out for her, but the flames burned my hands. I bolted upright, still dreaming, but I couldn’t breathe.
“Grace!”
No answer.
I turned in the darkness. A shape waited there, rising from the shadows.
Bael.
Twisted and grotesque. The demon’s horns curled from his skull like a crown. Its skin was blackened, like charcoal, and wet with rot. Its mouth stretched into something between a grin and a wound; teeth slick with blood.
“She’s mine now,” he rasped, voice sounding rough, as it were burning in coal.
I lunged forward, fists swinging, but I couldn’t move. Chains wrapped around my wrists, yanking me to my knees.
“You took what belongs to me,” Bael growled, stepping closer. “And now she’s returned.”
“If you hurt her…”
The demon made a dismissive gesture. “I want you to know that I had nothing to do with this. She opened the door when she bound herself to you. Stupid little witch didn’t even realize the sigil was flawed.”
My heart slammed in my chest. “She doesn’t belong to you.”
“She does,” he snarled, reaching out. Flames burst along the walls, and behind him, Grace screamed. She was on the ground, crawling, blood streaking her hands, her body dragging against cracked stone.
Bael turned to her, crouched low. “The moment she marked herself for you, she gave me the right. She made herself mine.”
I fought the chains. “Let her go!”
His laugh was jagged. “She bonded herself to a cursed soul, and now she walks through hell beside you. Even now, her blood sings in my world.”
Grace turned toward me, mouth open in another scream, and the world, as I knew it, shattered. I shot up from the couch gasping, drenched in sweat, my lungs burning.
The futon cushions beneath me were soaked in sweat, and I stared down at my hands and arms wondering why my skin felt so raw.
Grace hovered above me, her pale face looking worried. Her hand reached for my shoulder. “Peter? You were scream…”
I grabbed her before I could stop myself, flipping her hard beside me into the futon. Her body hit the cushions, and I pinned her there, both of us panting, staring into each other’s eyes.
“Jesus, Hellsing…what the hell?!”
I didn’t answer right away. I just looked at her, felt the tremble still in my hands, the pounding of my heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I whispered.
Her eyes widened. “What happened?”
“He came to me,” I murmured. “Bael. He’s in. He knows.”
“Knows what?”
I ripped down the neckline of the t-shirt, exposing the sigil that sat atop her breast.
“That you bound yourself to me. And that the mark isn’t working anymore.”
“Hellsing…” was the last word I heard before the roaring in my head began.